A Fox's Destiny
by Sebias of Redwall
Summary: A young fox's life is thrown into confusion as he struggles to find where he truly belongs.
1. Chapter 1

**THE ISLE OF ARDRIA **

The wind howled and lightning streaked across the dark sky above the island of Ardria. Since Ardria was far into the Northern waters, terrible weather was to be expected this time in the season. It was on such a night that Kara, wife of Chief Ironmace of the Darkbludd tribe, was giving birth.

Ironmace was a large, powerfully built fox. He had jet black fur and was clad in a tunic made of otter-hide. He and his tribe of two-score foxes had lived on Ardria for as long as any of them could possibly remember. Their island was shared (Granted, reluctantly) with scores of woodlanders and other packs of fellow vermin gangs and tribes.

Ironmace was pacing back and forth inside his hut anxiously. Every now and then, the storm's might and fury would be drowned out by the sound of his wife's pained screams.

Those blasted healers had better be doing a good job in there, Ironmace growled to himself, or there will be a few heads kissing their necks goodbye!

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted as he heard the sound of a loud knock on his hut door.

Muttering a few curses under his breath, the fox chieftain walked over to the wooden door with a few quick strides and swung it open. Looking down, he saw the shape of an old female vixen, her fur grey with age, leaning on a wooden staff and trying her best to stay on her weary paws.

"D-do y' 'ave any room fer me t' stay, kind sir?" the old fox gasped out, feebly grabbing Ironmace's large paw with a surprisingly strong grip, "Please! I'll do anythin' y' ask! I got caught out in this storm an' nobeast else will let me in. I'll die if I stay out in this weather any longer–"

"Oh, shut up, yew ol' hag!" Ironmace spat, grabbing the old fox by her shoulders and pulling her roughly through the door. Plopping her down on a nearby chair by the fire, he growled, "Jus' stay there 'n' don't move a muscle! Normally I'd 'ave y' flogged an' sent on yer merry way but if y' sit tight 'n' keep that tongue of yers in yer head, then we should get along just fine!"

Muttering a few more oaths of frustration, the large fox chieftain resumed his pacing.

The old vixen, meanwhile, had tried her best to wring out her soaked shawl and huddled as close to the warm fire as possible. Hearing Kara's cries from the other room, and the sounds of the healers stumbling around fetching hot water and the like, she couldn't resist asking, "Ah, is that yer wife who's expectin'?"

Ironmace spun around and looked at her in the eye. "Yes! Now shut up!"

The room fell into an uneasy silence as the screaming suddenly stopped.

Both of the foxes' eyes darted over to the small door at the far end of the room as a short fox with dirty-white fur pushed it open and poked his head out. "Um… Chief?"

Ironmace practically crashed into a table as he ran over to the door. Brushing his fur down, he said, "Is everythin' alright?"

The fox healer smiled. "Congratulations, Chief, yer wife 'ad two 'ealthy male cubs."

Pushing the healer aside then, after straightened his clothes the best he could, Ironmace walked through the door. Striding up to the small bed in the corner, he leaned down and patted his wife's paw.

Kara's eyes flickered open and she smiled at Ironmace. "Aren't they beautiful?" she asked, nodding over to the two bundles wrapped in blankets by her side.

Seeing him nod his head, Kara lifted them both up and held them so her husband could see. "Look," she cooed softly, "this one looks just like you."

The baby that she was referring to indeed looked astonishing like Ironmace. He had his dark black fur and the same green eyes. Peering over at the other, Ironmace saw that his other son looked slightly more like his wife. His fur was a white and his eyes were ice blue.

Ironmace almost jumped six feet in the air with surprise when the old female hag walked up from behind him and pushed him to the side as she tried to peek at the two cubs. "Scoot over, sonny, I wanna see th' wee babes."

"What th'– Get yer stinky hide away from my sons!" Ironmace grabbed the old vixen. "Do y' want t' 'ave yer hide whipped off of yew?"

The hag was slippery. Wiggling free of the fox chieftain's grasp, she once again walked over the young babes and held a paw over them. "I shall pay y' back fer yer generosity, oh kind sir, by foretelling the future of these two – at least as well as I can that is."

Ironmace paused. He and his tribe had a healthy respect for seers, though they were aware that many of them were mere fakes. However, one did not want to get on the bad side of one unless you were certain which was which.

"Okay," the black furred fox said reluctantly. "Tell me, what does Fate have in store fer our young ones?"

Kara watched the hag suspiciously as she closed her eyes and started to chant while she rubbed the babies' paws with her own. Her chanting got louder and louder until finally, after a loud clash of thunder from outside the hut, she stopped. "Both of yer sons 'ave destinies that are hard to foretell," she murmured, "However, I shall do my best… This one," she pointed at the white cub, "shall rise to a seat of high power. And the other…" she suddenly lowered her voice, causing Kara, Ironmace, and a few of the curious healers to lean forward as they listened to her next words. "This one… He shall wield a terrible 'n' deadly power. I'm afraid I can't say much more because this cub's fate relies too much on what he chooses later in life."

Wrapping herself once again in her shawl, she didn't say another word.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note:**

**So I had written this chapter for a contest of the Redwall Abbey Community Forum, but I finally got around to editing it a bit more and publishing it here on . **

**Alright, let's get to review responses…**

**Abrahem: Yes! You **_**are**_** the first reviewer, Huzzah! *Hands Abe a cookie* "Yin and Yang", hmm, you could say that. Ooh! An interesting idea! We shall see what we shall see… **

**The Grey Coincidence: Ironmace has arrived! (Well, like you said, at least here on FFN) Yes… *Shivers* poor otter indeed. Haha! I think you've nailed the way standard vermin worry about their loved ones. XD Yup, fatherhood does that to a beast. (Luckily for the old hag, he had other things on his mind. Otherwise, things could've gotten…unpleasant. :-P) **

**Waycaster: Yep! I must admit, I'm rather fond of back stories. (It's so much easier to explain why certain characters are the way they are, by actually **_**showing **_**the readers what had happened to them in their past). **

"**What is she doing on the island?" An intriguing question! (Maybe picking wild berries? Kidding, kidding. XD) **

**Remnants of Fantasy: Thank you for reading! I hope you'll enjoy this next chapter! **

**Silver sword rat: I'm glad you liked it! Have a great day! **

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**ISLAND OF ARDRIA**

The pale moon shone high in the night sky as waves broke gently on the shores of the great island of Ardria. On the west side of this massive lush-green isle was a small village of woodlander mice. Small wooden huts dotted the shore, and fishing nets were hung on fences beside the docks. When the mice that lived there grew to age, it was expected for them to leave their beloved homeland and find their fortune at sea. However, those that stayed normally took up the practice of fishing in order to put food on the table, or took up bartering goods from passing trader ships.

It was on this silent and peaceful night that Ironmace, Chieftain of the fearsome Darkbludd Tribe, decided to go for a raid. The Darkbludds had been the plague of Ardria for as long as anybeast could remember. Most of them were foxes but there was a decent scatter of weasels, stoats, and ferrets among them. The Darkbludd had never allowed rats of any kind to join them because they had been taught that rodents and woodlanders were far less superior then other, more noble beasts… such as themselves.

"I wish I could've stayed home," a tall, skinny, white-furred fox named Dirke grumbled from where he lay hidden underneath a flower bush beside his brother. He was armed with a short, thin-bladed sword that he gripped tightly as he nervously looked ahead through the trees just outside the mouse village that they were to raid. "After all," he continued, "it's not like I'll ever be one of you dunderheaded warriors who are always getting into fights anyway."

"Are you calling me a dunderhead, brother?" an amused voice asked from beside Dirke.

The white fox turned to look at his brother and winked. "Well… that depends on how you like to take it, Kirk."

Kirk smiled. Out of the two brothers, he was by far the most warrior-like. His dark black fur blended into the night with ease, he held a small axe in one paw and a broadsword in the other. _Maybe Dirke was right. _The young vulpine thought as he glanced over at his sibling. _We probably should have let him stay back in the camp. _Aloud, he said, "Well you might be singing a different tune after this battle is over… I might have to save that tail of yours again."

"Hey! _I'm _the one who usually has to drag _your _tail out of trouble. I'm obviously the smarter out of both of us."

Kirk rolled his eyes. "I don't think so, snow-face."

Dirke gave a fanged smile. "'Snow-face', eh? Well I guess that makes you a mangy-furred pile of dung."

The black furred fox pretended to gasp with mock outrage. "How dare you insinuate that my nobly black fur resembles dung. Why I outa –"

Suddenly, the deep voice of Chief Ironmace snapped out from behind their bush. "Would you both keep it down? Do I need to remind you that we are on a raid here?"

The fox chieftain's fur was a dark black, and just one glance at Ironmace's broad shoulders and strong arms showed where Kirk had gotten his build from.

Dirke slapped at a bug that had bit his arm. "Ouch! Pesky little things! You don't have to remind me, father. We don't have any of these blasted bugs back at camp!"

"Aye, and that's why I had to drag you out here so that you can toughen up a bit."

Dirke rolled his eyes.

It was obvious to Kirk that his twin would rather be sleeping on a nice clean cot instead of listening about "how much he needed to toughen up" and "how to become a strong warrior like Kirk" and etc… Kirk shrugged to himself. If Dirke wanted to grow up weak and defenseless, then that was up to himself in Kirk's opinion.

Ironmace pointed up ahead. "We aren't far from the mice's village so you should both try to keep it down. Are we clear?"

Seeing no objections, the chieftain nodded. "Good. Now I've got to go and see if the rest of us are ready. Kirk, you come with me. If either of you make a sound before it's the right time," he hissed, "then I'll break the legs off and make you eat them, so keep quiet!"

Kirk opened his mouth to point out that Ironmace was actually making more noise that either of them had, but decided it would be more prudent to remain silent. He quite enjoyed having his legs in one piece.

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Ironmace's raiding party of two-score vermin had loosely surrounded the village, making sure to stay out of sight. They gripped blackened weapons as they waited for their chieftain's orders.

Kirk felt a rough paw clasp him on the shoulder and he turned to see his father gazing at him with his hard eyes. "Listen," he whispered, nodding his head over at Dirke, who was hiding not far from them, "I want you to take care of your brother. His white fur will make it easier for the enemy to see him, an' I have a raid to lead so I can't be bothered by worrying about him."

"Aye," Kirk grinned, "I'll keep an eye on him. After all, I'm used to pulling his tail out of the fire. And I'd like to be able to run something in _his _snout for a change."

"Heh, a lad after my own heart," Ironmace chuckled. Patting Kirk on the shoulder, the fox chieftain crept forward and disappeared from his son's view.

Kirk took several deep breaths as he readied his small axe and his sword. Even though he was only fifteen seasons old, the black fox was already well known for his skill in battle. Most of it had come naturally, but the rest of it had been beaten into him by many hard lessons from either the tribe best fighters, or sometimes even his own father. The later ones were especially painful.

Kirk's eyes darted up with surprise as he suddenly heard his father's fearsome battle cry.

"Death to the enemies of the Darkbludd Tribe! Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Darkbludd warriors from all over burst out from their positions and hurled themselves into the village, repeating their chief's war cry as they thundered forward.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Mice were awoken from their slumber as vermin crashed through their doors and ran them through where they lay. No mercy was given. Young or old; male or female; armed or unarmed were all cut down and slain.

Kirk had joined a throng of warriors as they tried to rush the village's main armory. The black fox dodged to the side as a mouse – armed with nothing more than a staff – leapt forward and swung his weapon at him.

Kirk smiled to himself. _Ah, an easy one. _Leaning back to avoid another swing from the mouse, the young fox threw his small axe into his enemy's face, killing him instantly. Yanking it back out from the corpse, he spun around and used it to block a blow from another mouse that had snuck up from behind him.

"Your murderer!" the mouse spat, his eyes full of rage and grief as he pointed to the old mouse that Kirk had killed. "I'm gonna kill you!"

_Oh please! It would take somebeast with far superior skill than you have to so much as scratch me. _Blocking his adversary's blows, Kirk continued to make his way slowly backward toward a burning hut.

Once he reached it, the vulpine dropped to his knees and grabbed a pawful of dirt. Jumping up, he threw it into the mouse's eyes.

"Ack!" Rubbing his eyes desperately, the mouse's life was cut short as Kirk leapt up and plunged his sword into the woodlander's throat.

_Well that felt good. _Cracking his knuckles, he looked around for a new enemy.

The raid was going well for the Darkbludds. Even though they had been outnumbered two to one, the vermin had caught the mice unprepared and unarmed. Those that had made it to their weapons were trying to hold out in the largest of the wooden huts that was positioned in the center of the village. But Kirk doubted they would be able to hold out for long.

Creeping stealthily through the darkness, Kirk walked down an alleyway toward the sounds of weapons clashing and loud screaming. He was taken by surprise as a female mouse suddenly charged past him, her paws wrapped around a tiny bundle as she ran, looking desperately for a safe place to hide.

She gave a shriek as she saw Kirk. Giving a loud war-cry, the black fox began to chase her, easily eating up the distance between them with his longer and faster legs.

Once he caught up to her, Kirk swung out a paw and punched her in the side of the face, knocking the maid over.

Grinning from ear to ear, the young warrior lifted his sword, preparing to give the villager a swift death.

Just as he was about to plunge his sword into the fallen mouse's heart, the female struggled up and thrust the bundle at his footpaws. "Please!" she pleaded, "You can kill me if you wish, just please, I'm begging you, spare my baby."

Kirk didn't know why, but he hesitated as he looked down at his sword, then back toward the crying babe. _Well… I guess I _could _let them go… _he thought. Stiffening his shoulders he tried to shrug the doubts aside. _No! These woodlanders are inferior to us! The Clan Elders say that it would be merciful to end their sufferings here and now._

The young warrior didn't even know why he was inwardly arguing with himself. After all, wasn't he already one of the most deadly warriors in his tribe? He had killed lots of woodlanders before, why was this mother and her child any different?

Looking down into her pleading eyes, Kirk felt all of his thoughts on killing her melt away… Even though chances of her or her baby surviving were practically nothing, the mother's face still shone with a brief hope that maybe… just maybe, this vermin would let them go.

Kirk looked down both sides of the alley. The moon had finally come out from behind the clouds and cast a brief light over his surroundings. Hearing the sounds of his triumphant comrades making their way toward them, Kirk knew he would have to decide fast.

_Father is gonna kill me if he finds out. _Grabbing the now crying baby, he quickly handed its bundled form into the mother's arms and spat on the ground gruffly, trying to appear stern. "Take your baby and run. Run as far as you can, or my tribe will hunt you down and kill you and your child."

Reaching forward, the female mouse grasped his paw and kissed it. "Thank you, kind sir." Then, running like her life depended on it (Because it actually was), she charged down the alleyway and disappeared into the night.

_What have I done? _Kirk thought quietly to himself. Shrugging, he hefted his axe and sword and ran off. Maybe if he went back to killing then he'd forget that he had let a brief moment of weakness into his heart.

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Once the fight had started, Dirke had made sure to stick as close to as many of the other Darkbludd Tribe warriors as possible. He had been in his fair share of fights before, but those had mostly consisted of clubbing an ignorant woodlander when they weren't looking. Now, he was in the middle of a fight for his life.

"Freeeedom!" screeched a tall, broad mouse as he swung a heavy club at Dirke's head. The white fox ducked down and leapt backward, thrusting out desperately with his sword as he did. By a stroke of luck, the blade had met its mark, and the other creature went down.

_I really, really, REALLY wish that I was back at camp! _The vermin thought. Dirke regretted coming on the raid with every fiber in his body. It was hard for the young fox to tell friend from foe in the jumble of bodies and the darkness.

Another woodlander had attacked him from his side, and was skillfully thrusting and swinging his spear so that Dirke was forced to scramble backward, away from the thick of the fighting.

_I'm not sure that I can do this much longer… _

Dirke was suddenly knocked over by a screaming villager that had unwittingly stumbled into him from behind.

The fox's stomach turned ice cold with fear as he saw a tall mouse preparing to run him through. The thought of looking for a weapon didn't even register in Dirke's brain. All he saw was the spear tip as it hovered over him, preparing to come down and snuffing out his life.

Just as the mouse began to lunge at Dirke's exposed chest with his weapon, he was pushed over as well as two more fighting beasts barreled into him. Knocked out of his terrified trance, Dirke felt around desperately with his paws until he found his dagger. Dirke wiggled onto his side and plunged the short weapon deep into the tall mouse's neck before he had a chance to recover.

"Good job, brother."

Dirke didn't even need to peer into the darkness to recognize the silhouette of his brother.

Glancing around, Dirke could see that most of the fighting around them had died down somewhat. The only woodlander nearby was the one that he had just killed.

"And where were _you_ all this time?" he asked, accepting Kirk's helping paw as he struggled back onto his footpaws. Dirke's eyes narrowed curiously as he saw a strange look pass over Kirk's face at his question.

_What exactly have_ _you up to? _He thought, suspicious.

Kirk's expression suddenly went back to normal, and the black vulpine shrugged at in reply to his brother's question. "I was just killing some mice over by those huts."

Dirke scratched his chin. _Okay, _he thought, _I and can definitely tell that's something's not right with you… What are you hiding, Kirk? _

Both of the brothers had been close since birth. And even though they fought and stolen from each other as much as regular vermin, they had learned to stand up for each other. After all, even tyrants needed only beast that Dirke could ever fully trust was his brother (and perhaps their father)… so why would Kirk hide something from him. Had he found a pot of loot or something, and didn't want to share?

_Eh, it probably wasn't a big deal anyway. _The fox huffed to himself as he tried to wipe the blood and dirt off his white fur.

"How was your first village raid?" Kirk asked, smiling. Wiping his sword clean on one of the dead carcasses, he slid it back into its sheath. The small axe, however, he kept in his paw just in case they ran into any of the surviving villagers.

"Oh, it was… interesting." Dirke replied, picking up his weapon from where it had fallen on the ground. "Though, I think if our dear father had used better tactics, this attack would've gone better, with less bloodshed on our side. But of course," he rolled his eyes, "you warriors never do listen, do you?"

Kirk shrugged, glancing down at the dead bodies beside them. "The simple plan is always the best plan. Though you could try telling father that his strategy was wrong, and that you think he's some kind of a fool apparently…"

Dirke's eyes widened suddenly, and the young fox suddenly appeared to look casual as he swiftly changed the subject. "My, there sure are a lot of stars up there tonight."

Kirk looked puzzled by his brother's behavior, until he saw what had caused the rapid change. Chief Ironmace and a group of warriors were drawing closer as they howled triumphantly up to the night sky. It appeared that Dirke and Kirk hadn't been noticed by them yet, but Kirk knew that his brother was smart enough to know that a beast should never talk bad about their leaders in any way (Even if they _were _his sons), if there was a chance of being overheard.

"Um… Father would probably want to know where we are…" Dirke said.

The older twin merely folded his arms. "Hmph, I doubt it, but I guess we should regroup with them anyway."

The two brothers walked across the bloody ground toward the sounds of the rest of their tribe.


End file.
